


I'm Okay

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: :(, Abusive Parents, Angst, BAMF Hope Van Dyne, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone is a good bro, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gay Rights, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, If you dont like dont read, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, May Parker is a Good Bro, Natasha is dead, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Self-Harm, Sorry again, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Teen Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony is still dead, but not as childish as others make him out to be, everyone is a BAMF, i changed the time line around a little bit so that morgan is thirteen not five, i dont know what im dong now, im so so sorry, peter is not a kid, sorry - Freeform, steve is still old, stucky still happened but now steve is old so not anymore, well he is still young, wont get too into it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21603904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A young pregnant reporter is hiding some secrets, what happens when she goes into labour at the annual Stark Gala?
Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter One

It was the annual Stark Industries gala, famous celebs and news reporters from all over came to hear what Tony Stark had to say, but this gala was different, this one was for all of the Avengers, not just SI. It was in memory of Tony Stark and how his snap had brought them all back. 

Early September wind combed it's way through her hair, her thick black curls falling steadily out of her bun that she had spent hours trying to tame. Emmie looked around, not many reporters were aloud inside and even then, it was the big bosses that twisted words to work in their favour. 

She looked down at her dress, a simple mint green, a classy colour that complemented her dark skin, she had thick black glasses framing her face and a classic yellow pencil sticking out from behind her hair. Her feet ached, the soles killing from the heels and her coat wasn’t protecting her from the wind, at least not her whole body.

Her notepad was filled with basic questions and she constantly tapped her pen against the white lined sheets. The camera around her neck was bumping against her stomach, the digital bulky memory capture moving with the wind. She subconsciously rubbed at it, looking down fondly at the bump her baby was giving her.

She was five months along, too soon for her waters to break, so she took the opportunity to be the reporter of her own story, the story of the new Avengers generation. Seventeen and pregnant didn't sound good on any resume, maybe that was why she never got a job during the snap nor during the snap back as she called it, so she became self employed, having her own vlogs, her own podcast. She was proud that she had crawled her way to the top.

She waited another five minutes and saw the first of the avengers turning up, the newest ones. Ant-Man, The Wasp, Captain Marvel and Spider-Man, informally known as Scott and Hope Lang, Carol Danvers and Peter Parker-Stark. 

She waited as close as she could to the entrance doors, less shoving where she was; safe for the baby and herself. She saw Hope and Scott approach and took her opportunity.

“Excuse me, Mrs and Mr Lang. Hi, My name’s Emmie Bird, can I have a moment of your time, I promise to be quick.” At their nod, she ushered them over and gently smiled, hiding her baby bump incase they got the ‘young mom, irresponsible child’ vibe.

Hope was in a beautiful golden dress, black ribbon across her chest and off the shoulder sleeves. Her hair was twisted back into a braided bun and her makeup was soft yellows and thick mascara. 

Scott was in a nice suit, a white bowtie and red laced shoes to match his red suit. His hair was just as messy as it was in the photos and he had a cheeky smile as he wrapped his arms tightly around his wife’s shoulder.

“Hi, like I said my name is Emmie, and I’m here to represent my own podcast, The Birds Nest. I was wondering if I could ask some simple questions, which you can skip, of course,” they nodded again, kind smiles directed towards the younger woman who took it as her cue to start. “So, you were there at the final battle, can you just tell me something that went through your head when you saw each other? You don’t need to go into detail and you can fully skip.” She pulled out a recorder and raised it in question, already knowing that they would say yes. “I’m going to record this, is that okay?”

“Yes, uh. When I first saw my Hope, it had been roughly ten hours, even less. I didn't know what to say, what to think. But I can remember running up to her, holding her tightly and telling her that I really wanted Thai food.” Scott laughed and Hope nodded with a fond smile. “Why Hope ignored me and just kissed me, I will never know. But all I did know was, she was the most amazing woman in my life and I want to spend my life with her and my Peanut.”

“That’s amazing Scott, honestly, it was very moving. Mrs Lang, do you have anything to add?” I turned to the woman in question who just shook her head as if what Scott said was everything Emmie needed to know. “Okay, can I ask what you thought about Tony Stark, the man who saved us? I want to know what you all think that he has done, what his death has caused us to have.”

Hope frowned in thinking and replied, “Tony Stark was a man that my family never liked, history and all, but what he did was a great self sacrifice that saved our snapped men, women and children. I never agreed with Stark, I don’t think I ever will, but he has my respect.”

“Stark did the right thing and I think he deserves to rest now.” Scott added. “Can I ask you something?” He quickly added.

“Sure.” 

“Why have you come out here today, to Stark’s gala?”

“Because he brought my family back. I’m not here to just honour him though, I’m here to respect all of the hero's that had helped bring back the others. I don’t like Stark, I can’t move on from what I feel, but I know that if he was alive right now, I would hug him and thank him for bringing back the people who mattered to me. I’m here for all of you, not just him.” She replied and pulled her coat tighter around herself, the breeze picking up again. “I won’t keep you any more since it’s getting cold, please enjoy your evening and thank you for stopping by.” 

She waved them off and saw Carol walk up towards where she was, smiling and waving in a lovely blue pantsuit, a red tie and black heeled boots. Carol seemed to not be in the mood to answer questions so Emmie waited until Peter turned up near her, she called him over and smiled warmly at the over excited teen in the black tux.

“Hello there Peter. My name is Emmie Bird, from The Birds Nest podcast,” the teen nodded and his grin widened.

“I listened to your conspiracy theories with my friends, you are very weird, Miss bird.” They both chuckled and Peter blushes are dark red, looking like a sun dried tomato.

“Thankyou for that, nice to know I’m not actually invisible to the world. Do you mind if I ask two questions, just two small ones and you can skip or walk away if you want to, is that okay with you?” He nodded and she took a quick picture of him in his Spider-Man pose. “Is it okay if I record this too?”

“Sure, go for it, Miss Bird.”

“In your last interview with The Talk, you said that you double barrelled your last name so you didn't lose that past connection with yourself, and when you got asked about it, you declined to answer so I want to know something that has been bugging me for months since your return. Who inspired you the most in your life?”

Peter took a deep breath before smiling softly, looking as if he was recalling a memory. “I would have to say that my aunt and uncle were the biggest inspirations in my life. Please don't get me wrong, Mr Stark was my hero, but my aunt was the one who looked after men when I moved in with them, my uncle was the one who took me to get ice cream everyday after school. They were the everyday superheroes that shaped me to be the man I am today.” He chuckled softly and looked off into the far distant. “Without them, I wouldn't be here today.”

Emmie nodded in understanding and took another photo of his distracted smile fondly looking at the sixteen year old who looked like he was fresh out of the womb. “Okay, one more question. Everyone knows how and why you outed yourself, but I want to know what you would've continued to do if you hadn't outed yourself after the school bombing?”

“I would have continued to do what I did before, I will admit that I feel better now that the world knows, but I like the fact that if I hadn't outed myself, I would have done what I always did, look out for the little guy. I still will, I won’t go on missions until I think I’m ready, I’m going to go at my own pace.”

Emmie smiled. “That sounds great, Peter. You need to do what you feel is right for you, you can go now, I shouldn't keep you too long out here in the cold.”

As Peter walked away, the baby reacted with a harsh kick, a sharp one that had her bending over at her stomach. “Please behave for Mommy, you’re hurting me.” She whispered with no harshness to her tone, her motherly instincts taking over with her responses. The baby had been kicking a lot recently, moving and disrupting her from everyday activities that we easy to complete, at least they would be if the baby wasn't kicking her every five seconds.

More heroes came and went and soon it was down to the last of the Avengers. The first Avengers. Steve Rogers walked out, walking stick in hand and Bruce Banner following in tow. The now eighty year old looking super soldier was smiling warmly at everyone and the crowd was going wild for Professor Brulk. Clint stepped out, one of Natasha’s widow bites around his wrist.

All three men were in suits, black for Steve, blue for Brulk and red for Clint. Steve quickly went inside, not stopping for many questions and Bruce just smiled and stopped for everyone, but it was Clint that came to her.

She didn't usher him over, didn't even breath his name. He just walked over and smiled whilst Emmie took a few photos.

“Aren't you a little bit too young to be a news reporter?” He asked her, a smirk on his sorrow face.

“Yes, aren't you a little too old for a mohawk?” She replied in kind.

“Touché, so, what can I do for you, little miss?”

“Right. Sorry. My name’s Emmie Bird and I’ve got two questions to ask you, most of the questions have already been asked but I don’t think these will have been asked. Like I said to the others, leave anytime you want, ignore me and skip the questions. I want to record this, if that is okay?”

“Go for it, sunshine.”

“I know that Natasha never got the send off you wanted her too, but what I do know is that without her, the stones wouldn't have gotten back her and Stark wouldn't have snapped us all back to life. What I want to know, is what would Natasha do if she had lived?”

Clint looked uneased, guilt shadowed his face and Emmie felt bad for putting this on him. “I know what she would do. She had a ten year plan built up, she wanted to officially take down the Red Room and build an orphanage. She wanted to settle down and stop. I can remember her telling me that she was tired and that she would want to move in with me, living quietly in the middle of nowhere. She would build and orphanage and settle down and give children the life she never had, that’s what she would do.”

Emmie nodded, biting her tongue as a sharp kick was delivered. Clint looked at her with a calculated stare, watching as she almost doubled over from the repeated kicks.

“You okay?” He asked, concern now on his face as he took her elbow in his palm, slowly edging her down to sit on one of the stairs. “Do you want me to get someone?”

“No!” She exclaimed, maybe a little too harshly in her panicked state. “No, thank you.”

He nodded and she quickly asked her second question. “What would you say to Romanova if she was here, seeing as this is a tribute to Stark and she isn't getting any recognised like what Stark is getting?”

“I would tell her that she has done what she wanted to do back in Budapest. She has redeemed herself and she can live in peace knowing that her past is now behind her. She has redeemed herself fro-” he cut himself off again as Emmie doubled over in pain. It was a sharp kick that had her crying out. “Right, I’m calling someone. Anyone.” He turned to security at the doors and asked for Banner to come outside, which he did, she could tell from his large echoing footsteps.

“What’s up, Clint?”

“This reported here is in pain and is being too stubborn to sort it out, what’s your verdict, Doc?” Clint bluntly said, sharp eyes boring into her skull.

“I’m not that kind of Doctor, Clint.” Bruce stressed as he crouched down, all cameras and eyes now turned to them. “Maybe we should take this inside?” Bruce muttered to the both of them.

“Fine by me,” she whispered, praying that her bump won't shock the news reporters, she couldn't afford to be on the front page, too much attention, she had just gotten away. 

Bruce easily picked her up and Clint followed the pair inside. Bruce seeked out another hero and she ended up with Hope coming her way. Bruce looked down and Emmie and finally took in her appearance.

Pale skin, an ill looking complexion. Her eyes were wide yet sunken, surrounded by black and blue bruising beneath. She had a small cut, noticeable unless looking, on her left cheek and when he glanced down at her arms, tiny marks were embedded into her skin. 

“You okay there, ma'am?” Bruce asked again, willing for Hope to hurry up.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Emmie clenched her teeth as another kick was delivered and grasped her side and front in a vice grip, heavily breathing through the nose. “Just want this to stop, it will, it always does.” 

“Do you know what it is, Emmie?” Clint asked, suspicion in his eyes, confusion on his face.

“A baby.” She revealed her bump just as Hope came over, showing a not too large bump on a seventeen year olds body. “This just hasn't happened for weeks now.” Another sharp pain had her biting down on her hand, leaving a mark behind and a tiny trace of blood. “I appreciate your concern but I need to go, I’m going to be ruining your gala.” 

Emmie knew that she wouldn't get kicked out, she knows the heroes wouldn't do that to a young girl, but she couldn't be here. She knew she shouldn't have come, having had gotten away from him, she was already slimming her chance of escape. How could she had been so stupid? So, so, stupid!

Emmies attempts to get up were falling flat as Hope put her shoulder on Emmie’s shoulder and urged her to sit down again. “Emmie, right? We spoke outside. Now I have a question for you.” Hope looked into her eyes, brown pupils that begged that what she thought wasn't the truth.

“How old are you?”

Emmie sucked up her pride and muttered under her breath, “I’m seventeen.”

Hope, Clint and Bruce sucked in a sharp breath and look at each other worryingly. She was too young to be a mother and by the looks of things, she was keeping some more from them. The girl let out another painful gasp and Hope took initiative, “Bruce, go find Pepper. Clint find me somewhere not so crowded.” Both men stared at her before shuffling into action. 

Hope turned her attention to be solely on the girl. “I need to know how far along you are and how long these pains have been going on for.” She spoke in her no-nonsense tone and it obviously woke something up within the girl as she gritted what Hope wanted to know out. “And do you know who the dad is?”

That was the question that seemed to scare the girl the most, a far away glassy look covered her eyes, her chest was rising in an unrecognizable pattern. The girl was on the brink of a panic attack and Hope couldn't let that happen. The Wasp grabbed Emmies hand, squeezing enough to leave behind a faint mark that faded as soon as she dropped Emmies wrist. “You back with us?”

Emmie nodded not trusting her words and saw Pepper Stark walking towards her, must be time for her to leave.

“Hope, what’s going on?” Pepper asked, casting another confused glance at Emmie.

“She needs help, some doctors. I think she might be going into labour. It’s too early to tell, but she needs help, pain meds. Anything, really.” Hope looked back at Emmie before looking into Peppers worried eyes.

“Get her back to Avengers Tower and get med-bay set up. Someone will go with you, that is if you are going with the girl.” Pepper turned to Emmie and crouched down to eye level. “Hope and another avenger will go with you to med-bay and we’ll find out what’s going on. Anyone we can call?”

“No, can someone just help me up?” Hope and Clint grabbed her arms, gently easing her up off the ground. The trio began walking just as Emmies waters broke, unnoticed by both Avengers.

“Uh, guys?” They turned to see the large puddle under her. “I think I’m going into an early labour.” And with a gasp of pain, she knelt down, head bowed to her stomach as she howled in pain, attracting eyes of many reporters. 

“We need to get her out of here, now.” Clint demanded, harshly in his panic. 


	2. Chapter Two

They rushed Emmie through traffic ridden New York and they were surprised to see that she hadn't passed out from the pain she was going through. The limo skipped over another speed bump and jolted the car around, a scream erupting as she slammed her back against the harsh leather of the seats.

“Will this thing go any faster?” Clint shouted at Happy Hogan, feeling bad for pressuring him to move but ignoring it in favour of not delivering a baby in a car, again.

“Give me three, Barton. Tell the cars to move and then maybe we might be there quicker.” Happy snarked back, putting up the divider and tuning out Clint's offended gasp.

They had been lucky to have Happy driving them to the Avengers tower but Clint was too stressed to be thankful, he’ll thank him later. What he was really worried about was the ill looking teen who seemed to be growling in pain, literally, growling. 

“Happy?” Clint urged again, worry coming evident in his voice just as they pulled up near the med-bays entrance. Happy opened the door and quickly pulled her out and onto a gurney, Clint and Hope following Happy as he pushed her through the doors just as another contraction hit.

“Young female here, seventeen, five months along, contractions are three to five minutes apart, lasting around sixty to seventy seconds. Name is a Emmie Bird, blood type is O positive.” Happy yelled out just as the doctors took her away, leaving the duo of Avengers and the head of security out in the waiting room with nothing to do but wait and panic.

* * *

The head nurse rushed around Emmie, breathing tubes to sedate the pain and ice chips, another anguished scream left her mouth and the nurses picked up their pace and eased her gently down onto the bed. 

“Hi, my name is Nurse Moore, I’m going to look after you until your doctor gets here. Anything I can get you, your boyfriend or family maybe?”

“No! I will have anyone but them here.” She stated in anger, pain seeping into every word. “Just get me something for this fucking pain!”

The nurse nodded and left just as the doctor walked in. He walked up to her with a gentle smile and sat beside her. “My name is Doctor Wheels. Just need to see if you want drugs or not? Will you be having a C-section or not?” 

“No drugs, I can’t. Please. And do whatever you can to get this fucker out of me. Isn't it too early to give birth? Will my baby live? Tell me!” She rushed out just as another contraction hit, hasty panic spiralling out with every scream. “Just tell me if this kid will live.”

“We won’t know, can’t know. It will be put in special care and kept under the watchful eye of all our doctors here at Med-bay. The earliest you can give birth is four months but the babies never tend to live, as long as the heartbeat is strong, your kid has a better chance of survival.” The doctor smiled again and got into position at the tips of her toes, letting her get as comfortable as she could before spreading her legs apart. “You may be further along than you think.”

“Great.” She muttered.

“And the father, do we know who he is?” The doctor asked again, distracting her from the pain.

“He could be dead for all I care.” She screamed out just as another contraction hit. “Why is this happening? The baby is too early!”

“We need to get this kid out, now! I can see the head starting to crown. Do you have a midwife on call?” Doctor Wheels directed at her, concern at the baby and mother's survival rates.

“Never. Got. One.” She gritted out.

The doctor and nurse in the room exchanged worried looks, tension was high in the room with the only sounds being the machines and Emmie’s heavy breathing. She was too young, seventeen and pregnant, with obvious signs of depression and the scars that littered her arms indicated self harm, maybe even suicidal tendencies. Something was going on and she wasn't going to tell them.

“Okay, get in position, Nurse Mill, can you get her something to bite down on, someone hold her hand, get me water, towels, a clamp and scissors.” Nobody moved. “Now!”

After ten minutes of pushing and agonising screams, a tiny baby boy was born. 

“Do you want to hold him?” The doctor asked, wiping away the gunk from the baby's body, noting the faint heartbeat. When Emmie shook her head, a wave of sadness hit the doctor hard in the chest, what has happened to the girl that had made her be cold to her own flesh and blood.

“Just get him away from me. Is he going to make it?”

“Probably not. I am so sorry for this.”

“It’s fine.” She replied back in the calmest of voices, she seemed emotionless to her own baby. “If he dies, just tell him I’m sorry, okay? Can you do that?”

The doctor did nothing but nod, putting the baby in a cradle and hooking him up to a heart monitor before walking over to Emmie’s side. “We need to talk Miss Bird.”

“About what?”

He did nothing but point at the scars on her wrists, it seemed enough to shock her into silence and discomfort “No we don't.”

“Yes, we do. Why have you been doing this to yourself? Are you suicidal? How long has this been going on?”

“If I answer you questions, can I go home? Yes? Great. When everything gets too much, a silver blade is my best friend. When I can still feel something I don't want my kitchen knife saves me. No, I’m not suicidal, I'm very happy, thank you very much. Since I was ten.” She looked up to the shell-shocked doctor, some guilt at the harshness of her words but she would deal with that later. “Can I go now?”

“I’m afraid no. You seem unfit to leave my med-bay so I will be transferring you to a ward by direct orders from Doctor Cho and Mrs Stark.” He said softly, as if he was talking to an injured animal and a scared child. She hated it. 

“This is more fucked up than anything I have been through. Screw you.”

All he said back was that it was for her own safety as he wheeled her bed through the hallway of the hospital, passing Happy, Hope and Clint - each wearing different expressions of panic and worry. They made her feel worse, she could deal with it later.

She always dealt with it later.

* * *

The girl lying in the cot, curling around her midsection, shoulders shaking, body trembling, was not who he remembered seeing at the gala. Her dress was missing and in place of it was a hospital gown, the scratchy material seeming to be irrelevant to her.

Hope took a step towards her, then another and another, careful steps taken until she by Emmies side, wrapping her arms around the seventeen year old and holding on tightly as the younger woman's shoulders shook with silent sadness. 

Hopes heart was aching to make it all better, a promise she knew she couldn't keep. Instead she whispers, “I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’m here.”

Emmie let out a shuddering gasp, her need for oxygen increasing and killing her. She couldn't breath, her lungs were aching, her blood was racing, her whole body was shaking like a leaf and Hope held her tighter through it all. 

“Do you want me to call someone in?” Hope had to ask, someone must be looking for her, she was a minor after all. 

“No,” Emmie whispered back, barely loud enough for Hope to hear had she not been so close.

“No family?”

“No, I don't want them here.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to get you some nicer pj’s, you just hold on tight and if you need anything, ask a doctor or call for Happy, okay, honey?” Hope reassured, squeezing Emmys hand before walking away to her and Scott’s floor; all the while worrying about Emmie.

* * *

Morgan Stark was bored, she was bored out of her mind. With her mom off at the gala and Peter with her too, there really wasn't much to do in her room.

She scrolled through her phone, thousands of notifications from strangers wanting her to follow them, befriend them and tag them in posts. Her mom and dad had made it look so easy to be a grown up so she thought she would be able to handle it, than the snap happened and she had to grow up way to soon for anyone’s liking. That was when her dad left, she knew he died but saying he left was easier.

The only reason her dad actually helped was so he could bring back that Peter kid, Morgan had only met him once before the snap and she wasn't a big fan of the nerd. He was the reason that her daddy was gone; because her dad cared about that selfish teen, he saved the world with death knocking on his door.

Was it wrong for Morgan to hate Peter? Maybe, but that wasn't going to stop her. She was old enough to make her own choices, she was thirteen for god sake, so she could hate him if she wanted to, she did so in secret as to not upset her mom, but she really hated him.

Morgan was walking around the tower when she saw Hope running from the elevator to the mad-bay floor, had someone gotten hurt? Morgan followed her curiosity and saw a teen girl, maybe around Peter’s age, cuddled up in Hope's arms, her shoulders shaking, looking like a mess.

Morgan knocked on the door, gaining both of their attention before walking in, a curious expression on her baby face.

“Good evening, Morgan. Shouldn't you be in bed?” Hope had to ask, Morgan wasn't old enough to be up this late. 

“I’m old enough to choose when I sleep, Hope.” She replied back, her tone stern and stubborn.

Hope chuckled before pulling the girl closer to her. “Who’s that?” Morgan had to ask, curiosity was killing her, she hated not knowing.

“This, nosy parker, is Emmie. She’s going to be staying here for a little bit.” Hope replied, gesturing to the girl in her arms in Ant-Man pj’s, obviously too big for the skinny teen.

Morgan ignore the nosy parker comment and settled on asking, “Why?”

“Because she had an accident and needed our help. Morgan, where is your babysitter?”

“Asleep, I put some of Mom’s sleeping pills in her drink, she was loud and annoying.” Morgan knew that was a lie but she didn't care, Morgan did not like Tabby. 

Her babysitter, Tabby Taylor, was actually really sweet. She let Morgan stay up later than what her mom would, she gave Morgan five dollars and in return Morgan would eat all her vegetables. But Tabby talked too much, she listened to the same songs her dad would, she would wear the same glasses her dad would wear. She reminded her too much of her dad, so she had to go.

“Morgan! Do you know how dangerous that is? I’m going to go up and make sure she isn't drowning in her own vomit! You stay right here, Friday?”

“Yes, Mrs Lang?” Came the voice of the artificial intelligence.

“Get Mrs Stark down here, get Happy to watch her and please tell me that the babysitter isn't dead!” Hope frantically shouted, gently easing Emmie off of here before storming out of the room, one angry glare directed at Morgan for safe keeping.

“I know what I’m doing,” Morgan muttered, kicking at the ground whilst glaring at the ceiling.

“But, Little Miss, you did endanger other babysitters. You can not keep doing this.” Friday disciplined softly, well, as softly as an AI can.

Morgan rolled her eyes before looking at Emmie, a calculated look in her eyes as she took in the dark yet deathly pale teen, messy hair and bloodshot eyes. Her hair was tied back but it looked static, as if the teen had been jumping on a trampoline. “So,” Morgan started. “Who are you?”

The teen looked hesitant, frightened to be in this room alone with Morgan. She stuttered out an answer and Morgan tried not to let her sympathy show, sympathy was a weakness that she didn't need, not around strangers. 

“M,my name’s E,Emmie. Emilia Bird. Uh, yeah.” 

Emmie felt like a fool, stumbling over her words like an idiot in front of Morgan Stark! She was too distracted to actually think straight, her heart was elsewhere from her brain.

“Okay, Bird, was it? What are you doing here, Bird?” Morgan walked closer, arms crossed hoping to look intimidating but looking as frightening as a poodle in a dog show.

“I’m here because I had an accident, did you not hear Mrs Lang? What’s it to you anyway?” Emmie was fed up of people looking at her thinking they had control over her, she had it with her grandad, she had that with her dad, her mom and her goddamn brother. She was not a doormat to be walked over. “Why do I have to answer to you?”

“Because I’m a Stark.” Morgan answered back, stating it as if it was the answer to everything.

“Yeah, last names don't mean everything. Trish Walker can't do things just ‘cause she is a Walker. Romanoff couldn't get anywhere she wanted because of who she was. People can do things because they make a difference to the world, not by the influence of your last name.” Emmie wasn't going to take shit off of some preteen who thought she could boss people around, grief can make people do some awkward things.

“How dare you! My mom will have your ass in court! You don’t deserve our help!”

“Morgan! What on earth do you think you are doing!” Happy came running into the room, Pepper and Hope in tow. “That isn't how we treat guests.” Happy was red, her mother looked disappointed and Hop looked indifferent, all in all, Morgan knew she was screwed.

“You are grounded. You hear that Morgan? Grounded. I am so disappointed with you, how do you think your dad would feel?” Pepper grabbed at Morgan's hand only for her daughter to pull it away, her emotions now on her sleeve.

“He’s dead. He’s gone, Mom; and he won't ever come back!” Morgan ran, she ran until her heart couldn't take it and her body ached to stop.

This wasn't fair, nothing was fair. She wanted her dad back, she wanted her daddy! She hated everything and she wanted things to go back to how they used to be, back to when Peter wasn't in the picture and it was just her and her parents, back when everything was good.

* * *

They stood there shocked before Pepper and Happy ran after Morgan, that was when everything sank in. What she said to Morgan wasn't wrong but it wasn't right either. Tears fell and she looked at the door that Morgan ran out from. 

“I shouldn't have said that.” She whispered, gaining Hopes attention.

“Say what?”

“I said that she didn't have influence because of her name. I was just so angry, Mrs Lang, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to upset her, oh, God, I’m a horrible person. She’s going to hate me, Mrs Starks going to hate me. I’m so sorry, I didn't mean it.” She was hyperventilating and Hope, again, took charge by slapping her back into reality, not too harshly but enough to leave behind a sting on both hand and cheek.

“Emmie, you are fine. Okay, none of us hate you. Morgan is sensitive. What you said is wrong but you need to calm down. You calm down and take a deep breath before we talk. You okay, you with me?” 

Emmie nodded, the only though that was flying through her head though was:  _ Oh, fuck, I have screwed up big time! _


End file.
